*
wisdom can be found
in forgetting
love is stitched on a
white canvas
an array of colors
red for bleeding
is an illusion to the eyes
it’s calm blue deep
within
and forgiveness
may be a life raft
.
.
.
This poem appears in the first volume of the “California Notebooks”.
.
*
may my smile
be forever loving
as I play in life
new roles and adjust
words as a tight dress
may wind clothe me
forever changing
just that loving smile
let that one survive
.
.
.
This poem appears in the first volume of the “California Notebooks”.
*
a river pouring
you are not rushing
to me poetry flows
out is hard to contain
I’ve no hands for that use
I’ve new eyes to embrace
strong legs clasped around
it’s an odd place wonderful
to be tell me what is
new today with you
*
and then
there was that
truck fading away
into the curve after
having committed a
crime I witnessed
I knew I could be
of help if I memorized
the plate but I could
remember only three
numbers and its
shape – none
when I woke up
.
.
.
*
if I could keep my bones
warm and dry my heart
delicately swelling inside
as my eyes roam the air
grabbing not sure how
the poetic words that
make my life worth
living resounding
as a gentle
chime
.
.
.
*
if I could
if I just could
lean over you
desert mountain
and embrace you
until my heart feels
yours until your song
becomes mine
.
.
.
*
if you do respond
to light innuendos
if you do understand
the spaces within
and the white around
if you say a lot with
your silences then
poetry is light and
simplicity – it’s a gentle
laugh at the scoffing
of the learned – it’s
what lifts you up –
not what shows off
.
.
.
.
*
approaching the day
with dancing
thoughts
to linger in god’s
presence
light
that stays with me
at night
and in my slumber
.
.
.
This poem is part of the newly published collection California Notebooks 02
.
.
*
white wellness
welcomed within
.
quietness
a silence seek
.
nearly no movement
a mussel in a shell
.
I hear love
surging
.
if I could
stay forever
.
fractions
.
.
.
From the collection The London Hours, 2012.
.
.
*
mid day of August’s
mid month some echoes
of a church service
on a television where
there are very few visions
a small breeze rises
awakening me to
a tiny drip drop
a small precipitation
into myself until
an airplane breaks
the clouds in two
.
.
.
.
*
life as a bird
an egg in a nest
in unexpected
places hidden
cared for and guarded
with parental
love cracking to
the first light revelation
being fed and
taught to sing
before I could fly out
into everlasting
.
.
.
.
*
call on waiting
same old jingles
repeating as I
come to realize
the blessing of
waiting not able
to do anything else
.
.
.
.
*
I cannot be richer than
on summer nights
deep in silence
and beauty
open wide open
window mind soaring
above a few clouds strolling
by the moon
the language of nature
whispering to me the
dreams to come
.
.
.
This poem is part of the newly published collection California Notebooks 02
.
.
*
I load on beauty
between silences
those of plants and
lack of rain
these shivering
when reefers come
are not gossip or loud
news they are stanzas
needing spaces
in between needing
solid whites an invisible
bench to sit on
.
.
.
This poem is part of the newly published collection California Notebooks 02
.
A very brief video of a poem read in the Coachella Valley, California.
.
.
This poem is part of the newly published collection California Notebooks 02
